“Catrina,” said Professor Brownhair, “you’ve been marking students’ papers with blue ink. What is the meaning of this!?”
“Red is so… angry,” said Catrina.
Professor Brownhair proffered a photograph of a winged child holding a pickaxe. “They mine the red ink,” he intoned. “Save the cherubs’ jobs, Catrina. Save them!“
“Our customer service is our greatest asset!” Rosco explained to the customer.
“That’s sort of a… strange slogan for a toilet paper wholesaler,” the woman suggested hesitantly.
“We don’t wipe your bottoms for you or anything,” Rosco clarified.
She looked relieved.
He added, “But we do offer complimentary instructional videoconferencing!”
She shrieked as a horrible, misshapen little creature squirmed out of her grocery bag and flopped itself, half-formed lungs heaving, onto the floor.
Kill it! cried her husband, but pity stayed her hand.
A bond formed between them,
and though it was built on only moments,
it lasted;
it remained.
This story was based on a title suggested by @vxicepickxv.
She’d forgotten where it came from. Maybe she’d won it in a game of bingo that time she went to Paris…
Now and then it made funny noises when she went down the steps.
It seemed so content, sitting there under her front porch. Her very own happy little universe.
This story was based on this prompt from @Haberley.